For the boy inside the pages . . From Charles: I am often asked about my childhood. How I grew up. Where. What informed me as a writer, man and child of God. Starting with some of my earliest memories, these are stories of that place in me. That kid in me. In here you will find honest admission of my mistakes, failures, successes. Note: these are not fiction and this is not a novel.These stories are as true as I can remember. In these pages, you will hear the beginnings of my voice as a writer, the things that were troubling me — things I didn’t know how to voice out my mouth so they bubbled up and out my fingers. You will also hear my unshakable and childlike faith in a sovereign and good Heavenly Father.I wrote most all of these stories between my sophomore year in high school and my senior year in college so my temptation here and now was to edit them. To make them sound like me today, the writer I’ve become after almost thirty years with this keyboard on my lap. For the record, I have not done that. What you read today, is what I wrote then. (That doesn’t mean they’re sloppy. I’ve cleaned them up a bit.) But, as a result, you hear my early voice. And while it is ripe with mistakes and a wordiness long since edited out of me, there’s also an innocence and purity that I cherish.For those of you looking for my next novel, this is not it. But, it will give you insight into the novels you have read or might read. I’ve entitled them, “River Road,” because I grew up there. Because that hallowed ground along the St. Johns River holds a tender place in my heart. Because the valiant, sweaty kid I knew back then is still running around with Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn and he holds an absolute faith that fishing is a more noble pursuit than school, that he can play in the NFL, that men don’t die of hiccups, that he can still cat-walk his Schwin Mag Scrambler over sixty nine parking spaces, that swallowing Levi Garrett chewing tobacco won’t hurt him and that girls actually think it’s cool, that throwing tangerines at cars is good training for arm strength, that being a bully to a buddy hurt his heart, that a pellet to the gonads is excruciatingly painful, that when my praying mother hit her knees next to a wrecked car and bleeding man that she towered over the men around her, that forgiveness is the toughest thing that kid will ever offer another and that God can and will kill the devil. Enjoy.

    David Frum urges a Republican party that is culturally modern, economically inclusive, and environmentally responsible - a party that can meet the challenges of the Obama years and lead a diverse America to a new age of freedom and prosperity.

     A shy manifesto, an impractical handbook, the true story of a fabulist, an entire life in parts and pieces, Manhood for Amateurs is the first sustained work of personal writing from Michael Chabon. In these insightful, provocative, slyly interlinked essays, one of our most brilliant and humane writers presents his autobiography and his vision of life in the way so many of us experience our own lives: as a series of reflections, regrets, and reexaminations, each sparked by an encounter, in the present, that holds some legacy of the past. What does it mean to be a man today? Chabon invokes and interprets and struggles to reinvent for us, with characteristic warmth and lyric wit, the personal and family history that haunts him even as--simply because--it goes on being written every day. As a devoted son, as a passionate husband, and above all as the father of four young Americans, Chabon presents his memories of childhood, of his parents' marriage and divorce, of moments of painful adolescent comedy and giddy encounters with the popular art and literature of his own youth, as a theme played--on different instruments, with a fresh tempo and in a new key--by the mad quartet of which he now finds himself co-conductor. At once dazzling, hilarious, and moving, Manhood for Amateurs is destined to become a classic.

    In Them, journalist Jon Ronson has joined the extremists to track down the fabled secret room.As a journalist and a Jew, Ronson was often considered one of "Them" but he had no idea if their meetings actually took place. Was he just not invited? Them takes us across three continents and into the secret room. Along the way he meets Omar Bakri Mohammed, considered one of the most dangerous men in Great Britain, PR-savvy Ku Klux Klan Grand Wizard Thom Robb, and the survivors of Ruby Ridge. He is chased by men in dark glasses and unmasked as a Jew in the middle of a Jihad training camp. In the forests of northern California he even witnesses CEOs and leading politicians -- like Dick Cheney and George Bush -- undertake a bizarre owl ritual.Ronson's investigations, by turns creepy and comical, reveal some alarming things about the looking-glass world of "us" and "them." Them is a deep and fascinating look at the lives and minds of extremists. Are the extremists onto something? Or is Jon Ronson becoming one of them?